What I Learned in My Year of Blogging

East Van image — Photo by Daniel Abadia on Unsplash

When I found out that Matt Hern — the author of Outside the Outside: The New Politics of Sub-urbs — lives in the Vancouver region, I needed to meet him. Erick Villagomez, who teaches with me at the University of British Columbia School of Community and Regional Planning, sent an email linking the two of us. But an e-introduction wasn’t what I was gunning for. I wanted to meet Matt in person, and my attempts kept falling flat.

On a lazy Sunday morning, not long before I began blogging, I got a text just after 8am: “Super late notice but want to meet me at the Portuguese club on the drive at 12:30?”  Only an East-Vanster speaking to a fellow East-Vannigan would use the term “the drive” so casually to mean Commercial Drive, the main artery of the entire northeast quadrant of Vancouver.  

I knew what “the drive” was. But I didn’t recognize the number. I hadn’t been texting with Matt Hern. And I didn’t put two and two together.

I answered, “May do. But I don’t know who this is.” When I didn’t hear back, I realized my curiosity was still piqued (is this how scammers get their hands in?) I texted again, apologized for maybe insulting whoever-it-was; explaining my contacts were lost when I switched phones. When Matt followed up, he reassured me (or encouraged me?) that I needed to work much harder to insult him. We did meet for lunch that day at the Portuguese Club of Vancouver — that great bastion of affordable meat-and-potatoes and cheap drinks where many old fellahs (and not-so-old Matt) are regulars no matter where they move to in the region. 

What rose to the top, more than anything else, was Matt’s advice that day. “Just write. Anything you want. Whenever you want. Who cares if anyone reads it?” or some variation of that theme, over and again. He had no patience for belly-aching about the structure of the book I was writing, or qualms about which audience to aim for, whether to get a literary agent, whether to get a publisher or agent before finishing the manuscript, or whether to focus on my writing platform. All the questions that had been plaguing me.

To understand where he was coming from, in offering me that simple advice to almost every question, you need to look at his own history. He is a prolific writer, whose range of intellectual territory and curiosity is vast: deschooling, youth autonomy, sports, urban politics, justice, community, immigration, urbs and suburbs, climate change, parks, gentrification, friendship, and ecology. He has produced a steady stream of books, essays, commentaries, articles, and fiction. He shoulders a deep back catalogue.

He really has just written. Anything he wants. Whenever he wants.

For me, writing the Urban Curious Blogs was about stretching my sense of play, my “who cares if anyone reads it” muscles. Here I was, letting go, digging around in a big sandbox. It counted but didn’t “count” as anything I would (or could!) submit to a literary journal, or a magazine, or a newspaper. Just musings, fun stuff, riffs on things I’ve written or spoken about before. Sometimes even deep thoughts.

I love cities, in a way much deeper and less specific than “I love this about this city.” What defines me most in this writing journey is that I bring a bloom-where-you’re-planted sensibility to every city I meet. I find things that delight me and fill me with awe everywhere that I go — including everywhere people live in close proximity one to the other. Cities are the kiln for creative expression, for generosity, for our entrepreneurial spirit, for our nesting instincts. I love cities, and urban planning, and my fledgling journey as a writer, and I hope I was able to convey that love and cheerleading with my more than 30 blogs since September.

Now, for some rest.

This is my last blog before I take the summer off and see what the future brings.